Morgana sa scáthán
by SilverThornFeather
Summary: "For if Emery's were to discover the woman he is to kill, is the woman destined to also have his heart, I fear the prophecy can not ever come to pass. She must die, and he must never know her true fate" AU - Merlin/Morgana fic.
1. Prologue - An Tús na deireadh

A/N - Howdy! Just thought I should add an authors note to this seeing as,well,I'm the author!

I know this may seem a little strange and that not many people ship Mergana but I thought it'd be interesting to write about so, I did

Until next time...

Shants x x x

Dedicated to : PenMagic and MagicOfEveryKind

Prologue

A white fog rested above the thin strip of water known commonly as Gehyhrs Loch, a light breeze floated and fluttered through the branches of a Willow tree that clung desperately onto the bank, its long wispy roots dug deep into the red soil that ran directly parallel to the shore. The sky was occupied by a thick layer of opaque cloud, which broke only to reveal yet more white sky for mile after mile after mile over the plain. The barren wasteland stretched out eastwards, with Camelot to the North and Good King Annanuis' kingdom to the south. The tide washed against the partially swollen bank, foaming as it met the silty sand deposited by the millions of tides prior to itself before retreating into the shadowy depths from which it came, as if it feared venturing any further onto the surrounding land.

The place was silent. Deathly so. It was at least until, a little way off into the distance, a veiled figure approached the bank and squatted beside the shrivelled ferns. It stretched out a gloved hand and produced from within its cloak, a corked vile of amber coloured liquid which gave off a strange light in the dusky evening air. The figure removed the stopper and poured the cordial into the foaming waves, which rose and lapped the riverbank with vigour as the black figure began reciting an incantation

"Morgana in the mirror,

Morgana in the light,

No more may Lady Morgana,

Dwell in Camelot this night,

For the prophecy is tainted,

Easy for one to pause,

For only one of magic,

Could ever discover the cause.

Let her body lie in Elinir,

The prophet's work is done,

For Lady Morgana's heart,

Is a prize not yet won."

"And it never shall be" said the cloaked figure as he stroked a fern fondly, "For if Emery's were to discover the woman he is to kill, is the woman destined to also have his heart, I fear the prophecy cannot ever come to pass. She must die, and he must never know her true fate"

The figure rose and walked into the dense thicket behind him. The waves calmed back into their sleepy routine against the bank. But deep inside Camelot, all was to change and not all of it for the better.


	2. Chapter 1 - Na huiscí dearmad déanta

A/N - Welcome to the fully revised version of "**Morgana sa scáthán - Morgana in the mirror**" Thanks so much for your continues support of my work! I really appreciate it! I'm so sorry for the lack of updates but A-Level exams are killers so you'll just have to be patient for a week or so!

Thanks so much!

Feel free to drop me a review and I'll be sure to PM you back!

DFTBA

Shancy.

xx

Dedicated to PenMagic and MagicOfEveryKind and Chamelaucium

Chapter 1

The sun pooled through the arched shaped windows and lay to rest upon the sleeping young warlock. It was not uncommon for him to be woken by the dawn, he was mostly awake if this was the case, and however today was no ordinary day. Something in the rays of light told him so, they lacked their usual warmth and instead came to rest upon his face, illuminating the dust on his bedspread.

Though it hadn't been the uncertainty of the dawn that had awoken him from his slumber that morn.

He had awoken with a start, sweat dripped down in heavy beads from his brow, his hair was sticky and his tunic seemed glued to his chest with a thin layer of perspiration. Merlin tried to re-gain his breath, sucking air greedily into his lungs, his chest rose and fell with each gulp which broke halfway through the previous. He collapsed back onto his makeshift cot, two wooden boards nailed together with a wrought iron nail that dug into the small of his back if he lay for too long on one side, and found his thoughts drifting to the vision that had broken his sleep so violently.

_He was lying by the side of a lake, not a mile in the distance stood an ancient fortress, its mighty battlements has gaping holes piercing through the masonry. From the little merlin could see it was large enough to house a kingdom twice the size of Camelot, yet it lay in ruin. A mighty battle had been fought here in times not so different from Merlin's own. _

_He was confused, disorientated. The world spun around his head like a child with a spinning top. Merlin struggled to lift his head from the muddy shore, his hair coated in a thick dense mud and his tunic was stained with crimson, which, if seen from some distance, would instantly be mistaken for blood but was in fact the same silt that adorned his curls. Despite his valiant efforts to free himself from his muddy confines Merlin, too weak to even so much as speak, fell flat onto his face. _

_The grey waters sloshed about the bank, green and black weeds swirled beneath the depths, light glinting and bouncing off of the top of the rippling waves. There was a faint smell of seaweed and Merlin began to feel sick. Then all of a sudden a voice floated through the air, another joined in and another until the entire plane was filled with tiny voices, each struggling to be heard over the others. All sang the same flurry of notes, shorter ones directly following a series of longer ones and it was this pitter-pattering of muted minims that'd aroused merlin from his weary state. _

"_Emerys" they whispered, a faint breeze cast over the top of him like some ancient spell, as if the voices were the whispers of some giant. But all merlin saw was the charred remains of what were probably a once beautiful kingdom. _

_He tried to raise his head, this strange new wind whipping about his face, upon discovering he had indeed regained his strength, he drew his knees up to rest underneath his chin and sat huddled in a pile by the edge of the lake. _

"_Emery's", Merlin whipped his head around to face the mighty gorge walls but yet again saw no one. "Who's there?" he called out to the rock face, though it remained silent. _

"_What do you want from me?" he all but yelled. Had not all of the Kingdom perished they surely would've mistaken him for a mad man suffering some excruciating mental pain, though I doubt many would've taken pity on him. For the ruins merlin currently resided in were no more pleasant then, then that are now. _

"_Don't be hasty to know us by name Emerys, for many have taken that path and have not yet returned" they chorused._

"_Then why are you here?" merlin shouted "What do you want?" _

"_Tis not something we feel any want for doing Emerys. We come only to bestow unto you the prophecy that was handed to us centuries ago, when the great fortress of Arandyr that we currently reside amongst was merely a pebble upon the ancient mountain at Atheniyr. You see Emery's, this was always the way it would be. We would come to you in a dream, and deliver the prophecy the 3 headed goddess herself entrusted to us before your birth." _

"_Kilgarragh told me of but one prophecy, you know the one of which I speak for you call me by my given name. What is this that you entrust upon me so freely?" He asked the sky, unsure of a more suitable place to direct his question. _

"_We know not of its purpose, just of it's worth. To you. And to Camelot itself." Said the voices, delivering each syllable with ease. _

"_Tell me of what you speak then, oh faceless ones" said Merlin, arms outstretched he spoke again "I will hear your mistresses wishes, for I am not afraid of her." _

_"Very well young Warlock. Come stand by the pool"_

Merlin took a few tentative steps towards the water's edge and peered into the gloomy waters.


	3. Chapter 2 - ar domhan de scáth

**A/N - Hey guys! Hope you're all still hanging in there! Here comes chapter 2 :) **

**DFTBA,**

**Shancy xxx**

**Usual dedications apply! **

* * *

He felt as if the depths were never going to end, but rather continue down into the deep, black void for all eternity. Perhaps this was the faceless one's plans all along, to lure him into a never ending pit of nothing, lost until the world's last days. The world of back failed to encompass his thoughts kindly, each one becoming more and more dark and mistrusting than the last until finally, as if someone recognised his despair, a white light burst forth from out of the darkness, and Merlin's thoughts began to clear. The white mist began to dissipate and in its place, dense grey shapes began to emerge from the haze. First a tree, an elder oak, then the edge of a great lake, its waves lapping at the shore which had just appeared from the fog and soon, the shifting stopped and everything was still.

"Emerys" Called the faceless ones, Merlin turned around slowly and yet again was greeted by no one.

"Do you know where you are?" they said, as the breeze began to pick up.

"I have no knowledge of this place" said Merlin slowly, pivoting on his heels as he did so. "And yet, it almost feels like I've been here before"

"You have, of sorts." They chanted.

"What do you mean?" He said, brows furrowed and contorted up in his confusion.

"You were born not so far from here, you used to come here as a child. Your mother used to bathe you in the waters, some go as far to say they have magical powers."

"I don't understand you? I've never been here before." He said, his tone bordering exasperation.

"No, we don't expect that you do, after all you were only in your infancy. This is Gehyr's Loch" They replied softly.

"So what am I doing here?"

"Don't you see Emerys? This is where you began, so it is only right for us to bring you here to witness your destiny begin also."

"How can I possibly see my own destiny? Surely it must be already happening." Merlin said loudly

"Destiny is a delicate thing Emerys. Even the smallest of raindrops can cause a flood somewhere else downstream. Tis the same with you. It always has been." Said the whispers, though with more reverence than before.

"Oh for the love of the King, must you always speak in riddles? I still don't know what you're talking about!" He cried suddenly, flailing his arms about his head.

"Riddles, Riddles. We like riddles." They chanted, glee lacing their voices. To Merlin, it almost sounder sinister, reminding him once more that the people he were bargaining with were, under no circumstances, to be taken as friends. "We have a riddle for you!" they giggled.

"What? No-I" but he was cut short.

"I never was, am always to be. No one ever saw me, nor ever will. And yet I am the confidence of all to live in this terrestrial ball. What am I?" They chuckled.

"STOP! Just stop it ok?! Tell me why I'm here! You might as well, seeing as you brought me all this way!" Merlin shouted, his head turned up towards the sky in a desperate attempt to gain control over his situation.

"How else are we to speak to you? If not in a tongue you have the capacity to understand? If we told you plainly you would never believe what we say to be true and shall perish down a path that was wrongly laid before you." They replied softly.

"Please?" He whispered. "Just tell me why I'm here."

"Come towards the tree Merlin. Do not fret. No harm will come of you."

Slowly, Merlin began to pick his way across the clearing towards the large Elder Oak that sat in the centre of the plain.

"Well? What do I do now? Oh faceless ones" He called.

"Take a look beside the bank, kneel in the ferns if you must, but be quiet for there's no telling who might see you. And we can't afford for that to happen. No one must ever know you have come here. For the powers at work here are far greater than that of any mortal you have ever come to know."

Merlin, feeling sick to the stomach, did as he was told and crouched in the earth amongst the ferns.

"Now tell us Emerys, what is it that you see?"

Merlin peeked up from behind a patch of muted green leaves and peered across at the far side of the waters.

"I see, I see a man. At least, I'm assuming it's a man. He's got a cloak on. I can't see his face." He said, shuffling closer on all fours.

"Wait, he's got something in his hand. I think it's a vile of some sort. Oh he's pouring it into the water."

"Keep watching. All you know of the world is about to change." The faceless ones said, though their whispers seemed withdrawn almost wistful.

"The waves, they've got bigger. What's he saying? Now he's muttering to himself. Where did you find this guy?" Merlin said, amusedly.

"This is not the time for gaiety. Listen closely."

The cloaked man began to sing, softly at first. The words barely audible to the untrained ear, though Merlin, understood perfectly and the translation terrified him.

"Morgana in the mirror,

Morgana in the light,

No more may Lady Morgana,

Dwell in Camelot this night,

For the prophecy is tainted,

Easy for one to pause,

For only one of magic,

Could ever discover the cause.

Let her body lie in Elinir,

The prophet's work is done,

For Lady Morgana's heart,

Is a prize not yet won."

"And it never shall be" said the cloaked figure as he stroked a fern fondly, "For if Emery's were to discover the woman he is to kill, is the woman destined to also have his heart, I fear the prophecy cannot ever come to pass. She must die, and he must never know his true fate"

"Me? He's talking about me! He's talking about me and Morgana"

"Yes. Emerys. His name is Scath Croi, leader of a cult named the Ebony Ring. Emerys, what you've just witnessed, it's your future. The one you are destined to live unless you listen very closely."

"What…I still don't understand." He said with confusion.

"It is not important that you are fluent in fate Emerys. All that matters is that you act with great caution." They said. Their previously gay voices were now solemn and Merlin felt afraid once more.

"Tell me what I must do to understand?" He said gravely.

"The task is simple. Do not trust Kilgarragh. Whatever you do Emerys, don't trust him. He too is part of your doomed fate."

"But he is my leader.." He began.

"He is the master of deception Emerys. He has brought you this far only to betray you. The last dragon is not to be trusted."

"Then I am lost! Who am I to turn to? Who am I to trust?"

"Trust only yourself Emerys. Trust yourself and us. We will guide you. After all you are part of our destiny too. We will return for you Emerys. Be vigilant. All shall be explained when the time arises."

"But…When is the time? Why alter my destiny? What has Morgana to do with this?" He cried desperately.

"All shall be explained Emerys however, now is not the time for questions."

And Merlin, with a huge whoosh of air into his lungs found himself sprawled across his makeshift cot, his tunic damp and his heart beat erratic.


	4. Chapter 3 : Part 1 - An Scath de Croi

_**Howdy Readers! **_

_**I'm so sorry for the late update...I think I'm like 4 weeks late or something silly! I can only apologise on behalf of my stuborn muse! But never fear I'm back! :) **_

_**Just a quick side-note, this chapter is split into two...all will make sense as soon as I've posted the second part. Please bear with me, we're almost getting to the heart of the matter at hand. **_

_**Anyway as always,**_

_**DFTBA**_

_**Shancy xxx**_

_**Usual dedications apply. (though if you review, I'll dedicate it to you too! Promise!)**_

* * *

_**Chapter 3 : Part 1 – The Shadow of a Heart. **__**(**__**An Scáth de Chroí)**_

The first thing Merlin noticed when he padded into the adjacent room of the adjoining suite that he shared with Gaius was the distinct smell of porridge, wafting out over the lip of his guardian's cauldron which sat atop of the open fire. He picked his way over to it and peered into the pot with interest. The thick creamy liquid bubbled and sweltered as he turned the spoon around the edges of the crucible before folding the mixture in on itself and lifting the spoon to his lips.

"Bleugh!" Merlin spluttered, the porridge escaping from his lips to make a reappearance on the floor at his feet.

"By my beard, Gaius! What sort of concoction do you call this?" he said, getting to wipe the white mush from his tunic and turning to face his teacher, who stood at the entrance to the room a look of both bewilderment and amusement etched across the old man's features. For the sight of his apprentice covered in porridge was not something he was about to ignore, nor would he pass up on the opportunity to scold him for having not the wisdom to go eating from pots that are still boiling.

"Why, tis breakfast Merlin!" he replied and proceeded to walk over and scoop some of the mixture for himself.

"Though," Gaius continued, as he grabbed a hunk of stale bread from the larder and sat down at one of the long benches that occupied the room. "You do appear to have used it this morning as a sort of clothes detergent and might I say, I think it would be wise to stick to the more conventionally used Saipo earth*." He smiled a little and glanced up at Merlin's tunic warily, and continued eating from the wrought iron bowl he had brought.

"Oh ." Merlin said sarcastically rolling his eyes at his guardian before scooping himself up some porridge and placing it into a bowl rather forcefully and coming to sit alongside his teacher.

He took another, smaller, spoonful of the mixture and peered at it quizzically before inserting the spoon into his mouth. To his surprise, the porridge tasted wonderful and he dropped his spoon into the bowl with an almighty clatter.

"Ok. How did you do that?" he asked, with his eyebrows raised up to his forehead.

"Do what Merlin?" asked Gaius warily as he put down his own spoon, and rested his head on his palms.

"Don't play THAT game with me! How did you make it taste so good? It sure tasted like slop before. I know you did _something_!" He said pointing his finger at the old man accusingly.

""Don't judge each day by the harvest you reap but by the seeds that you plant Merlin, I didn't do anything, I just waited until the time was right, that's something you could do with learning a thing or two about." Gaius said pointedly.

"Always with the cryptic messages and constant digs" Merlin muttered, turning his attention back to his abandoned breakfast with a scowl.

"Though" Gaius added as an afterthought "I may have added some sugar" and stood up with a smirk taking his soiled dishes to the water trough. Merlin's eyes shot up, he grabbed his untouched hunk of break and threw it just beyond his guardian's head, though just as it reached it's desired destination it stopped mid-flight and landed square into the wicker basket bin, with a loud thump.

"Hmmpf!" said Gaius and with an air of resolve marched back out into his bed chamber.

"Fun sucker!" Merlin called after him. He was about to pick up his own dishes when suddenly he had a change of heart and stood with his feet square and his arm outstretched towards the table.

"Miasa, doirteal!" He whispered. His eyes flashed gold and soon enough there was a pile of perfectly clean dishes stacked neatly in the middle of the sink. He grinned a wide grin that stretched from ear to ear and grabbing a clean tunic raced out of the door before Gaius noticed that he was skiving cleaning duties with magic again.


	5. Chapter 3 : Part 2 - An Scath de Croi

_**Chapter 3 part 2 – The shadow of a heart.**_

_**A/N :**_** Howdy! **

**Sorry for the lack of updates, but this writers block is a real bitch! Anyway, now that I have planned this story out fully, you can expect updates every Tuesday from today because guess what!? SUMMER'S HERE BABY! **

**This is what some may call a filler chapter, so there's not much dialogue, but you really can't stop reading here because important plot events are revealed to us all. So hang on in there guys! **

**DFTBA,**

**Shancy. Xx**

We must leave Merlin for the moment dear Readers for there is something much larger at hand, than the arduous preparation of Prince Arthur's breakfast and the polishing of his armour. We must first of all deal with the birth of a sinister plot, hatched to bring about the downfall of not only Camelot, but the whole of the Western Isle.

The long winding corridors of Camelot's stronghold were lined with ornate tapestries, each bearing either the family crest (a mighty black eagle surrounded by majestic red and gold threads) or scenes of great battles, where kings rose up from the ashes of their kingdom and fought against all that is wrong in the world. Often, behind each of these draperies were concealed rooms, shrines to all those who had fallen foul of the Earth's wickedness. And it is behind one of these drapes that the story I am to tell you about first began, not long after the Faceless ones visit to our very own young warlock.

But before I can even begin to unravel the events that took place shortly after the fate of one so important was discovered to be false, we must first delve deeper into the heart of the Shadow World and I fear, what we are about to discover will somewhat hinder Merlin's quest.

However we must not fear readers, for where there is shadow, there must always be light and it is this light that we must endeavour to keep from going out, if Merlin is to be redeemed and the Lady Morgana saved from a fate also not her own.

Now, the western wing was seldom entered, except for those who are of the lowest status in the castle, by this I mean stable boys and serving maids and such people as these. And therefore hardly ever patrolled by the knights, for the servants were handpicked by King Uther himself and those who are in his favour are committed to the belief that he never makes an ill-judged decision of his own accord. Yet Uther's military wisdom had not foreseen the danger of unpatrolled sections of the castle and it was this oversight that Camelot's perpetrators took full advantage of, one starless winter's night.

Just beyond the servant's quarters, a large window looked out over the western courtyard and if you stood slightly to the east of the pane, one had a very clear view of the stable block. The fortified walls were patrolled by 3 archers who each took 2 hour shifts on top of the battlements. The western wall housed several sluice gates which allowed the sewage to be carried off and dumped into a nearby stream. The archers were under oath to shoot anyone seen to be gaining access to either of the gates, though it was unlikely that anyone was to face their execution this way for both sluices stretched far into the archer's blind spots.

Beyond the fortified enclosure say the rest of the town. A vast array of huts made from anything from wooden stalls to stone thatched cottages, which all lay nestled amongst the steep sided valley in which they lived. Now many people passed through the town as it lay centrally in the mountains and many roads passed by it. One of these pilgrims was none other than the Good King Ananias himself, who once said to a council at Lithinyr (the council of the Kings) "_the inhabitants of Camelot are some of the most kindred and kindly spirits in the entirety of the north, it's contempt to follow their king to the death is most admirable and we ourselves would be wise to follow in its wake. I myself have never come to know such a goodly people in all of my days and I have no reservations upon returning there, if ever the need presents itself. "_

Many residents of Camelot would be perfectly content to agree with the Good King's assumptions, and yet there were those who thought it mainly that, an assumption. These few people were not of the goodly natured kind, the Good King spoke of, far from it. In fact some would go as far to say that these, though small in number, were and to this date, the most dangerous of Camelot's residents.

For as history has always told us, those who go against their king, also go against the stability of their country . And it is this, as prophesised by all historical events before it's time, is exactly the fate that was bestowed upon Camelot, on that starless winters eve.

Now, as I have previously mentioned, many of the towns Disliked lived deep in the heart of the forest and often held secret councils, in a secluded clearing amongst the shadow of the great trees. Perhaps the most famous of these, was the Courts of Eventide, which met in the rare event where Venus (known as Véineas) Mercury (Mearcair) and Jupiter (Iúpatar) were within 5 degrees of each other. These planets are known as the brightest in the sky to us now, but to those before us, these "Stars" were the birthplace of superstitious beliefs and often the invitations to sinister religious plots. A night like this was seen as a sign, a gift from the deity they were tricked into believing in. Many cults of the time felt it proper to commit to them a sacrifice, often game or insects, but there were also those who offered up to their gods much evil. The Lunar Sect were famed for their offerings of snake eyes, the Lisathards, a lizard. Yet none of these offerings were as sinister as that of The Shadow ring.

Nobody really knows how this cult came into being, though one can only assume it was created with malice and greed, and though not much is known about their origins, the factual records hidden deep within Camelot's extensive vaults tells us of twisted tales and dark secrets from a time long ago, forgotten amongst the winds of change.

They would often meet underneath a clouded sky, amongst the deep shadows cast by the trees. Their black cloaks had deep hoods that concealed their faces from view which met at a point at the crown of the head and were fastened by a clasp at the nape of the neck. To you and I, it seemed as normal a clasp as any, though if we were to look a little closer at the brooch, it was in fact a golden spider. Spiders, as we know, have evoked fear since the dawning of the ages and this of course, was the Shadow Ring's intention. For fear brings about the downfall of many a warrior, if and when it presents itself. The Shadow Ring's offering was a human heart, taken from a victim who was made sure to never give it willingly, and it is the story of one sacrificial meeting that I am to tell you about now.

_The sky was cloudy; there were no stars, just an endless stretch of grey-white which seemed to stretch for all eternity across the world. They had agreed to meet between the elder oaks nestled deep amongst the sleeping trees, the pyre was already lit when Croi had arrived who had brought with him an ash cloth sack which he dragged along the floor at his feet. _

"_Finally, you took your time!" One of the figures, who had been guarding the fire came towards him, his face obscured, if not for the shadowy flames that danced upon his nose. _

"_He didn't want to cooperate." He replied, setting the sack down onto the leaf litter carpet and grabbing a pitcher from the table nearest to the flames. He lifted it to his lips and took a draught of the liquid before setting it back onto the table with a bang._

"_You're still late. Scáth Bás Ar will not be pleased to have his offering so late in the eve." Said the figure who had begun tearing into the sack with a carving knife._

"_But it does not detract from the fact that I am here does it? I will deal with him when the time arises. You on the other hand should focus on your duties, rather than meddling with the duties of others. I can change your path too, don't you ever forget that." Croi leered over at the man and "STOP!" he screamed and snatched the knife out of his hand with a growl._

_The other man jumped and almost tripped over a root that was sticking up far too high out of the parched earth, he turned sharply to face him;_

"_what was that all about? I didn't do anything!" he said insistently._

"_You went too close with the knife. Bás Ar wants it unspoiled. You know how he works. You scratch it, he'll have you begging on your knees like a dog before you find yourself back in such high a position" Croi smiled then, with a snicker lifted away the remaining sack cloth. Inside, lay a man, his face was covered in intricate tattoos in lines and swirls and his eyes were tightly shut, seemingly asleep. The other man leaned over Croi and sniffed the air around the bag. _

"_Still smells fresh, you did well with this one." He said, patting the man lightly on the shoulder._

"_That's not for you to decide." Croi said sharply. "When are the others arriving?" _

"_Any second now, we better put him onto the altar" he said and called over another of the cloaked figures that stood around the fire to help him lift him. _

_Thick smoke began to billow underneath the tree canopy and sure enough more shadowy figures emerged from the thicket. Their robes too were ebony and their faces concealed by both shadow and flame. Though it was the man at the back of the procession whom was really striking. His cloak was a deep magenta, and unlike the others his face was visible from within his hood. This was Scáth Bás Ar, the ring leader of the Shadow ring, all who saw him feared him instantly. He was named after death. Scáth Bas Ar – The shadow of Death. _

_The procession stopped moving and all came to rest by the fire. "You all know why you have been summoned here," Scáth Bás Ar said, his voice was rich, each syllable he uttered came out as soft as velvet._

"_Camelot's Prince, Arthur is believed to take the throne once his father has died, as you are all aware the prophecy states that he is to be the most powerful king the western wastes have ever come to know and yet, he is weak, youth may be on his side but he is lacking in wisdom. You also know, that in order for him to for fill his destiny he must have the aide of his servant boy Merlin, who is said to posses magical tendencies" _

_There was a muttering from the spectators around the fires. _

"_A serving boy? His having magical abilities is most absurd, I think it would be wise to…" he was cut off by one glance from his leader. _

"_A serving boy he may be, but a danger is he also. He is of Druid descent." He spat into the earth at the mention of the name "Druid", long have the Shadows and Druids fought for supremacy over Camelot's safeguarding and it should come as no surprise that the two groups hated each other. _

"_and so it falls to us, my brothers, to bring about the downfall of this future King and his aide, for if he is allowed to rule, what place will there be for magic in his kingdom? He is no more innocent than his tyrannical father and we all know what he took from us long ago." _

"_But sire," one of the men at the back spoke up, "How are we to alter things that have not yet come to be?" _

"_There is a way, the Lady Morgana is said to play an important role in all of this, some call her the witch healer, said to bind Arthur's men's wounds as they lie dying on the battle field. But she is a greater weapon then even the three headed goddess herself is said to know. We must harness that power for ourselves." _

"_But she is loyal to her King. She will not come willingly." Said another voice amongst the crowd._

"_A destiny is not hard to alter with the right means and motive brother. Scáth Croi will deal with this." _

"_She is young and still impressionable; the Ilinir Cordial will do its work, as soon as it enters the Mystical Waters at Gehyr's Loch. Scáth_ _Lasair, you will go under your usual serving guise and meet us in the western wing at the dawn of the 4__th__ day. Yet until then, I shall go and concoct the cordial of which I speak."_

_Scáth Bás Ar smiled and then rose from his seat, he approached the altar and withdrew a sacrificial blade from within his cloak, the scabbard was encrusted with jewels and the knife glistened in the faint glow of the fire. He approached the man quietly and raised the knife high above his head before plunging it deep into the mans chest. He never woke. _

_Scath Bas Ar lifted the heart from within it's cavity high above his head into the air before throwing it into the fire._

"_It is done. Camelot will fall and we will stand upon it's ashes. It is done." _

_The crowd erupted into applause and cheers of malice, and the fire continued to swell in the dark depths of night. _

_[To be continued] _


	6. Chapter 4: The future soveriegn's shirt

_**Chapter 4 - The Future Sovereign's Shirt.**_

**A/N : How'dy! **

**First of all I must apologise profusely for this late update. I had a terrible bout of writers block, then we went away to france for two weeks where there was absolutely no interent access to be found! :( Don't think I've neglected you! But hopefully this light chapter will wetten your appetites for the rest of the story. **

**Until next time,**

**DFTBA,**

**Shancy xx**

_Chapter 4 - The Future Sovereign's Shirt._

The Prince's quarters sat neatly between both the armoury (in case of a night seige) and the kitchens (to keep his seemingly insatiable appetite at bay). Many of those who lived within the castle walls passed by on a daily basis; bakers delivering bread to the kitchen or knights headed to deal with some squabble over the part-ownership of a vegetable patch. Though none so regularly as our own young warlock.

Merlin dashed down the corridor, tunic flaring out behind him as he rounded the corner and skidded to a halt outside Arthur's door. He exhaled sharply, bent over double to try and relieve the stitch he had unwittingly given before knocking.

"Enter" a muffled voice sounded from behind the door followed by a vast array of bumps and clunks.

"Sire?" Merlin glanced at the prince quizically, Arthur's head appeared from behind his dressing screen, he pointed his long finger in the direction of the 4-poster bed before ducking back behind the screen. Merlin frowned.

"you need me to..." he paused, quite unsure as to what to say "help you dress?" Merlin asked, casting his eye over the various belts and buckles that were sprewn across the bedspread.

"NO!" said the prince exasperatedly, ducking his head behind the screen once more. Merlin shrugged and turned turned to leave, but just as he was within three paces of the door he heard a shuffling from behind him.

"Yes." Arthur muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

"Sorry what was that?" Merlin said with a smile, stepping towards his master once more.

"Yes." The prince repeatead,his teeeth clamed together like a vice.

"I'm sorry, you're going to have to speak up" Merlin said with a smirk, he was really beginning to enjoy himself.

"YES! For god's sake! I need your assistance, help,aide, whatever you wish to call it you wretched little,"

"Sire, might I suggest I come back when you've made up your mind?" said Merlin "you're obviously in distress" and he bolted towards the door. Though he was too slow for Arthur, who after freeing himself from his hiding place, was in front of the door in two strides. He strode over and grabbed Merlin by the scruff and dragged him until he was standing stock still in front of the bed once more.

"Don't you dare you slimy little trout." Arthur growled into his ear.

"You know technically I've already dared but." Arthur pulled the neck of his tunic tighter, his lips resting on the shell of his servants ear.

"Shut up Merlin. I've already said I required your assistance and remember I NEVER ask twice." he said with a low snarl.

"Y-Yes" Merlin gulped.

"Yes what" probed the prince.

"Yes," He paused "Sire"

Arthur let go of Merlin's tunic, yet still kept his hold on his kneckercheif, he grabbed the tie and pulled his head down until his face was almost imprinted onto his bedspread.

"Now Merlin," Arthur said, " which shirt should I wear?"

Merlin stared at him incredulously, then to the shirts and then back to the prince again.

"What!" Merlin spluttered, struggling to comprehend the prince's request.

"Which shirt should I wear?" Arthur replied, waving the coloured shirts around for emphasis.

"Is this a joke?" he asked, his only reply was the narrowing of hid masters eyes. "You called me up here at.." he glanced over at the the window out of which the sky was just beginning to cloud over -

"10 O'clock in the moring to help you pick a shirt? Well this is a new low Sire, a new low! Can't even pick out a shirt? And to think they call you a prince!" Merlin said with a low chuckle.

"Yes they do Merlin. And one day this Prince is going to be King. The same king who can have you strung up a tree for being a right pain in my royal backside. Now for the love of the king, pick. ." and he thrust the shirts into his face.

"Sire," Merlin began, ducking out from underneath his cotton confines and flinging them onto the bed.

"Oh for pity's sake WHAT?" Arthur bellowed.

Merlin flinched and then proceeded with his question. "It's just, since when have you cared about fashion? I mean usually you don't give a toss about clothes, infact if it wasn't for me you'd be wearing socks on your ears and your tunic as a scarf."

"Since my father arranged a meeting with Princes Annushire of Annanius' kingdom that's when! If I don't manage to meet with her sucessfully, then the friendship between out two peoples could be severly hampered. Now Merlin, you wouldn't want to contribute to the division of friends now would you?"

"Well kingdoms no but sire I really would,"

"Good." He interjected before his servant could say anymore. "Pick a shirt. I need to impress this princess." Arthur said.

"Ah! So it's the princess you're trying to impress now is it?" jeered Merlin, smirking at the crimson sheen that had just become apparent across his masters cheeks.

"No. I want to court her 60 year old father. Of course I want to impress the princess! How idiotic are you?"

"The white one." Merlin said.

"What?" said the prince, a little taken aback.

"Wear the white one, it'll bring out your eyes." he said.

"White?" said the prince sceptically "Wouldn't red give me a bit little more..." he paused,waving his hands about, trying to find the right work

"A little more..what?" Merlin probed.

"A little more..finese?"

"You know that's an awfully big work for you sire!" Arthur simply glared at him. "No. White. Red is the colour of passion, of lust. We wouldn't want to give off the wrong impression now would we?" he left "and besides what would Gwenuivere think" unsaid, though the words threatened to spill from his lips all the same.

"White it is then" He said, lifting the shirt over his head "though Merlin.."

"Yes sire?"

"If you're trying to make me look a fool, you'll find yourself in the stocks. Mark my words you'll beg for death to take you quickly" said Arthur, a look of sheer determination etched across his features.

"Mmmmm. Death by rotten cabbages. What a way to go!" Merlin snickered.

"Get out of my sight. You've served your purpose. Go and find yourself something useful to do."

"Wait..you don't have a use for me? I'm offended!"

"_I._ Don't. But I'm sure someone _else_ will. Now quit your idiocy and leave me with at least a shred of my sanity. I have a council to prepare for" He said, waving his hand at his servant in dismissal.

"Yes sire." Merlin took a short bow and headed towards the door.

"Oh and Merlin?" Arthur called.

"Yes?"

"Don't get under guinevere's feet, she's got enough going on already without you blundering about all over the place."

"What do you take me for? I'm no fool!" Merlin said turning his face so as Arthur couldn't see his knowing smirk and he bolted for the door.

"Sometimes I do wonder Merlin, I do wonder" Arthur called after him a little before the door closed.

"_Don't get under Guinevere's feet_" he mimicked. "Somehow I think a shirt is the least of his concerns" Merlin thought to himself amusedly as he padded along a corridor that lead towards the main hall. If he were being completely honest with himself he didn't have a clue as to where he was going now that he had been dismissed. He shook his head and with a wide grin,headed off in search of his mentor.

[to be continued]


End file.
